Title: Lightbulb Moment
Fandom: Guardian
Rating: General
Length: 830 words
Notes: Chu Shuzhi/Guo Changcheng. Much thanks to mergatrude for beta and the prompt: “What about we try again?”
Summary: A little misunderstanding fic.



By the time they arrived at the SID after training, Chu Shuzhi felt a thousand years old. All morning, Changcheng had been enthusing about an anime film festival this weekend.

“The one I really can’t miss is playing Friday night,” he said, stealing a glance at Chu Shuzhi. “I’ve been a fan of the comics since I was little.”

Chu Shuzhi grunted, because the alternative was snapping that the festival sounded like the most offensively wholesome thing he’d ever heard of. He could imagine it now: an entire audience of well-off, fresh-faced Haixingren, a species of their own, sitting in polite ranks and watching cartoons.

He shrugged out of his coat and flopped into his chair.

Changcheng stopped beside him, fiddling with the handle of his baton. “Chu-ge, w-would you possibly—”

“What?” snapped Chu Shuzhi. Perhaps a shade too loud.

Changcheng jumped. Electricity arced from his baton to a conduit on the wall and sizzled upwards. Sparks showered down like fireworks as every bulb in the SID’s two chandeliers flared and popped.

“Oh no!” The baton fell to the floor.

Chu Shuzhi’s soul crumpled. After everything they’d been through, Changcheng was still so scared of him that a careless word had caused his baton to misfire. That said it all, didn’t it?

Da Qing raced down the circular staircase. “What happened?”

“It’s my fault.” Changcheng hung his head. “I was asking Chu-ge to see a movie with me, but he doesn’t, uh.” The explanation tumbling out of him broke off abruptly. His ears were bright pink.

“You what?” said Da Qing.

“What?” echoed Chu Shuzhi. That wasn’t what had happened!

“Replace the bulbs. Lao Li has spares and a ladder.” A nosy, knowing smirk had entered the cat’s tone, but Chu Shuzhi was staring at Changcheng—

—who was avoiding Chu Shuzhi’s gaze. Well, how many times had Chu Shuzhi reminded him to keep his baton in his bag at work? Of course he was embarrassed at the mishap.

“Changcheng?”

“I’ll get the bulbs.” Still not looking at Chu Shuzhi, Changcheng hared away to find Lao Li.

Chu Shuzhi’s stomach sank further. Just how badly had he blown it?

“He’ll be all right,” said Da Qing. “And it’s better to nip it in the bud, after all. The SID can’t have another unrequited crush. It’s complicated enough already.”

Da Qing was right. Changcheng must have noticed Chu Shuzhi’s feelings and been humouring him—or worse, demonstrating with an ill-suited invitation how impossible it was. He couldn’t be interested in a graceless grumpy old Dixingren like Chu Shuzhi, not like that. Chu Shuzhi should root out any hint of deeper feeling and be Changcheng’s mentor, nothing more.

Changcheng came back with a ladder under one arm and a box of bulbs under the other, his face pale and determined. He set up the ladder under the first shattered chandelier, and Chu Shuzhi went over to hold the box of bulbs and hand them up, one by one. They worked in silence.

Da Qing went back upstairs, leaving them alone.

Finally, when the last broken bulb was replaced, Changcheng climbed down the ladder and looked Chu Shuzhi right in the... chest. “It’s all right, Chu-ge,” he said, kindly. “You don’t have to feel sorry. I know I’m not cool enough—”

“Enough!” snapped Chu Shuzhi. “You always talk yourself down.”

Changcheng’s head drooped lower. “No, I just—”

“I didn’t know you were asking me out. Idiot. You didn’t have to do that.” He had to say it, to clear the air so they could move on.

“Oh, but you don’t—” Changcheng looked up, startled, and met Chu Shuzhi’s eye. And maybe they communicated better when they didn’t use words, because in the growing warmth of Changcheng’s gaze, some of the tension in Chu Shuzhi’s stomach unravelled.

The lights came on overhead. “Da Qing said Xiao Guo blew all the lightbulbs,” said Wang Zheng from over by the light switches. “Have you two sorted it out already?”

“Yeah, we fixed it.” Chu Shuzhi couldn’t look away from the golden brown of Changcheng’s eyes, the tentative smile quivering at the corners of his mouth, the flush in his cheeks. An answering heat was making his own palms sweaty, which was ridiculous. He was a grumpy old bastard—he didn’t get nervous!

“Chu-ge,” said Changcheng, confiding and hopeful, “could we—What about we try again?”

“Friday night? Sounds good.” Chu Shuzhi didn’t want to risk messing up again. Better just to skip the asking part.

They were going to a movie. Sitting in the dark watching cartoons didn’t sound so bad if it was a date. It might actually be nice—and if Chu Shuzhi felt a little out of place, he’d handle it. It would be worth it.

Changcheng beamed and leaned closer. “It’s a great story. I really think you’ll like it, Chu-ge.”

Chu Shuzhi couldn’t help himself. He smiled back. “Haven’t you been paying attention? I already do.”



END